Once a loving parent gave each child a special gift:  a sketchbook and drawing pencils.  Each of the more than 360 creamy, textured pages lay untouched and inviting; the pencils' sharpened points made an alluring row of colors along the top of  their box.  This gift was charged with infinite and creative possibilities, awaiting only the investment of imagination and action.

             How did the children receive their present?

             One of them never looked at it again!  He tossed it under his bed where it collected dust until a mouse got into it, gnawed the pencils and shredded the paper for bedding.

             Another admired the gift, but was afraid to use it.  Worried about "being perfect," he couldn't bring himself to take out a pencil and draw a single line or squiggle on the smooth paper.  Occasionally, he would take out the sketching set and ponder it wistfully, but it finally ended up on the top shelf of the closet with other untouched projects.

             A third child received the drawing paper and pencils with eagerness and immediately flipped open the pad and grabbed a pencil.  She declared that she was going to sketch a dog and began scribbling away.  However, her haste caused little more than smears of color on one page after another.  She became frustrated and angry that a dog did not emerge quickly from her first attempts.  At last, she flung the whole kit in the corner and now declared that using it was too much work.  The real dog in the house, however, enjoyed chewing it to bits.

             The fourth took his gift and set about drawing a car, which turned out passably well.  He drew one car after another, until he was quite good at it.  But he never tried anything else!  Page after page of nearly identical cars filled the sketchpad, always with the same basic design, going in the same direction.  He finally got tired of drawing and said it had become boring.  The pictures ended up at the bottom of his "junk" drawer:  He didn't want to make any more, but he didn't want to throw them out, either.

             The next child wanted to draw with the pad and colored pencils, and began to copy pictures from her coloring book.  She worked hard at it, but was frustrated if her results differed even slightly from what she was copying.  Once she had copied all the coloring book pictures, she abandoned the drawing pad because there was nothing left to copy, and besides, copying all those pages had become awfully tedious.  And all she had at the end was a duplicate of a book she already possessed.

             The last child was genuinely thankful for such an enticing gift.  She explored the colors of the pencils on one page.  She traced her hand on the next, and painted on bright red fingernails.  She found a picture of a butterfly and tried to copy it, with only marginal success.  But she tried again, using her own ideas of  a butterfly, and the result was more satisfying.  She practiced several pages of butterflies until she could do them well, but then she began to add flowers, grass, bushes, sky, sun, clouds until she was able to create wonderful scenes.  She also filled several sheets with dire monsters and awful beasts, and some very imaginative spacecraft.  One day she tore out some pages to give to a friend who was sick and needed cheering up.  On a few very special leaves of the paper she wrote short poems about how she felt when she was happy or sad.  At the end of the year, the sketchpad's cover was in tatters but almost every square inch of the pages was covered with bright pencil sketches, clever designs, and silly or thoughtful words revealing the feelings of her heart.

             Now, which of these children will be ready for the gift of a new clean sketchpad filled with possibilities from their loving parent?

 *****

             Once a loving God gave each of  God's children a special gift:  a new year.  Each new day lay untouched and inviting; the minutes and hours stretching in alluring rows of unused time.  This gift was charged with infinite and creative possibilities, awaiting only the investment of imagination and action!

 ***********

             Happy New Year!  Among God's best and most valuable gifts to you is the gift of this coming year (including an extra "leap year" day!), filled with all its opportunities and exciting potentials.  Use it wisely and well!  Live it to the fullest, enjoying each and every God-given day.  And seek God's presence amongst those fresh new days of 2012, for that is where the hope promised through the Holy Spirit will dwell!  May God bless you most richly in the year that lies ahead.

  Your pastor in Christ,

 James T. Galbreath

Once as the holidays approached a woman decided to host a sumptuous dinner party.  She began to plan and prepare well in advance.

            First, she laid out the use of rooms in her house:  Enter here, coats upstairs, gather in the family room, lay the table in the dining room, etc.  She was very thorough.

            Then she got to work on decorations, which had to be just perfect for the occasion!  She shopped, consulted, pored over magazines, queried her friends.  She made beautiful bows and streamers, bought eye-catching creations, meticulously matched colors and swatches.  She glued and painted, adjusted and arranged.

            The woman used lighting to enhance the mood of the occasion.  Lamps illuminated, candles glowed, twinkle lights added color and an air of magic.

            Of course the table was a special focus.  Magnificent color-coordinated sprays of flowers were enhanced by shining silver bowls of cleverly crafted marble fruit and nuts.  The table itself was a masterpiece of deeply polished wood overlaid with a virgin linen tablecloth.  Each place setting was of the most delicate translucent china and bright sterling silverware, with exquisite crystal goblets glinting in the candlelight.

            The woman had taken care to personally invite family and friends, sending stationary and cards that were eye-catching and of the finest quality.  These engraved and gold-embossed invitations promised a dinner party of the very most rewarding sort and attracted much attention.  Of course everyone wanted to come.

            And in order that the dinner be a success, the woman put much thought into arrangement of the guests:  who should sit with whom, what the potential for conversation would be, how to break the ice between strangers.  Her seating chart would have impressed a chess grandmaster with its subtle interplay of positions and relationships.

            And for each guest she had selected tasteful gifts, to surprise and delight.  Each was wrapped in colorful paper and lush ribbon and placed next to the appropriate gilt-edged placecard on the dining table.  (She had also thoughtfully provided a coffeetable where her guests could place the hostess-gifts they would bring her.)

            The last touch was to lavishly decorate the outside of the house and the yard with strings of lights and quaint holiday figures.  This created the proper atmosphere for the festivities as the people arrived.

            And arrive they did, on the appointed day, to be greeted by this perfect hostess in her smashing new dress designed just for this dinner party.  She welcomed each group and ushered them into the house, to mingle and talk around the crackling cheery fire in the family room.  There they could nibble mints and nuts, and sip hot cider.

            When all were assembled, they were moved to the dining room.  There was stunned silence as the crowd admired the impressive scene, then all were seated, and animated conversation commenced immediately.  Exclamations of appreciation and admiration were shared all around as guests delightedly opened their special gifts.  They showered praise on the skill and ability of their gracious hostess.  Silverware clinked as the dessert from the buffet was passed around, glasses were raised, congratulations shouted.

            And then it was time to go; the party was over.  The guests rose, gathered coats, and after many effusive expressions of thanks, headed out into the frosty night air.

            Just as the hostess closed the door behind the final departing guest and prepared to collapse in satisfied exhaustion, the voice of her small son arrested her.

            “Mom!  Where did all the people go?”  he asked urgently. “They haven’t left yet, have they?”

            “Yes, they’re all gone now.  Why are you worried about them?”  replied the woman.

            “Because, Mom!”  he said, pulling her through the open kitchen door, “you forgot to actually serve them the food!”

            And there in the kitchen lay spread out before her the substance of the feast:  turkey and dressing, potatoes and gravy, sweet potatoes and cranberries, and all the rest!

            And one husband, as he was driving home from the dinner party, turned to his wife and said, “Dear, that was a beautiful dinner and all, but why do I still feel so hungry?”

*********

            What an ironic thought!  To have done all that work, and then forget to actually serve the meal that was supposed to be the nourishing reason for all the effort in the first place!

            Perhaps it seems ridiculous that someone could get so wrapped up in the trappings and decorations that they would forget the substance, but is it really so impossible?

            As the holidays approach, will you focus on the holy substance of Christmas?  Will you center your celebration on the bountiful grace of God and God’s incarnate presence in Jesus?  Or will you fall into the trap of the poor hostess in the parable, intending to focus on the feast, but getting distracted by externals instead?

            One easy way to avoid such a trap is to include the worship resources of your church in your holiday schedule!  Attend worship this Sunday , and the Almost Christmas service on Dec. 21 or one of the Christmas Eve Services (4:30 or 11).  Gift the gift of Christmas by inviting your family and friends to come with you.  Share the Bible story of God’s miracle of indwelling love in Jesus’ birth in your family celebration. 

            Don’t finish the holiday season with your stomach too full and your soul still hungry!  Nourish both body and soul, and have a joyous holiday season of refreshment and renewal!

           One January there was a crate of baskets on the way from the warehouse to the shop where they were to be sold.  Each was handmade of quality materials, sturdy and attractive. Since the baskets were all squeezed together in the same container for the long journey, they decided to get acquainted. 

             One was decorated with pink hearts and white cupids for Valentine's Day, and was sure to be filled with cards and chocolates.  Another sported a bright yellow bow on an arching handle, and had colored bands woven into its sides of green and blue for Easter.  Obviously that basket would hold gaily colored eggs and chocolate bunnies. 

             Trimmed in orange and black, a different basket was shaped like a jolly pumpkin.  Certainly it was destined to be filled with treats on All Hallow's Eve.  Still another basket was adorned with red, green, and gold ribbons, clearly meant to be stuffed with Christmas gifts and goodies.

             At the very bottom of the crate lay a rather plain, but quite well-constructed basket.  It had a bit of decorative pattern woven into the sides and a nice rim of alternating dark and light brown strips around the top.  When the other baskets all inquired about its holiday, this last one said it was a Thanksgiving basket.  They all agreed that was certainly an important celebration, too.

             Then with a thump and a bump the crate arrived at its destination.  The store owner eagerly unpacked all the baskets and set them on display in her quaint little gift shop.  The baskets  were excited at the chance to be sold to real owners and find happy holiday homes.  The nervous period of waiting began.

             As February arrived, a young man rushed into the shop and snatched up the Valentine's basket for his new wife.  April saw a browsing grandpa buy the Easter basket for his special grandchildren.  When autumn rolled around, a excited little girl claimed the pumpkin basket to go with her princess costume.  With the year nearing its end, the remaining baskets were getting a bit worried, but an early Christmas shopper was charmed by the red, green, and gold basket and purchased it as a gift for her mother.

             All alone on the shelf sat the final basket.  It wasn't fancy enough to catch much  attention.  No one seemed to have a pile of gifts or candy to fill it.  It was just ignored.  At last with a sigh, the shopkeeper stuck a “Half Price Special!!” sign on it, and hoped someone would take it off her hands.  It just didn't seem that anyone had any use for a  Thanksgiving basket, and it was almost time to order the next year's supply. 

             At long last a couple looking for bargains came into the store.  The “Half Price Special!!” sign caught their eye.  They walked over to the shelf to examine the basket, picking it up and tipping it this way and that.  They looked at the bottom and the sides.  They peered in the top.  They squeezed and prodded and poked.  Finally, they carried it over to the counter to talk to the shopkeeper.

             “What kind of basket is this?” the woman demanded.

             “Well, the warehouse folks told me it was a Thanksgiving basket,” responded the shopkeeper.

             “What good is a Thanksgiving basket?” snorted the woman.  “What are you supposed to put in it?”

             “Things you are thankful for, I guess,” answered the shopkeeper, “or whatever you want.”

             The husband piped up, “Well, I want to use it for a wastebasket!  Let's just buy it and get out of here.”

             So the grumpy husband and wife reluctantly paid the weary shopkeeper, and carried the Thanksgiving basket home.  The husband kicked it into a corner and stuck a plastic shopping bag into it as a liner.  There it sat, useless except to receive trash that was no longer wanted.  Torn open envelopes and credit card applications, apple cores and candy wrappers, foam packing peanuts and cardboard boxes, broken electronics and exhausted batteries all poured into its carefully woven innards.

             What a miserable existence!  The basket was depressed and ashamed.  It remembered all the other holiday baskets and their fulfilling purposes.  What did this job have to do with Thanksgiving? That's what the grouchy couple wondered, too.

             “That thing's supposed to be a Thanksgiving basket,” barked the crabby husband to a visiting neighbor. “What a joke!  I'm supposed to be thankful that it fills up so fast?  All it manages to be is a chore to keep it emptied!”

             Instead of indulging in an answering chortle, however, the neighbor's face became suddenly thoughtful.  He knelt down and gently lifted the basket to examine its contents.

             “There's a simple solution,” he replied.  “Suppose that you didn't need this Thanksgiving basket because you didn't have any of this?  No bill envelopes because you couldn't afford to make those purchases?  No wrappers because you weren't healthy enough to enjoy these treats?  No boxes and packing peanuts because no one ever sent you any gifts?  No used up batteries because you were unable to purchase the things that use them?  No broken tools or entertainment toys because you never had them in the first place? No letters from friends and family because you had none of either?  Perhaps this is a more genuine Thanksgiving basket than anything decorated with gourds and colored ears of corn.  Every time you have to empty it, you'll remember just how much you've been blessed!”

             * * * * *

             Thanksgiving is a holiday meant to connect with the rest of your living, not just turkey, cranberry sauce, and football.  It is a reminder that we are all blessed by God in multiple ways, and all dependent on God's grace, even when it embarrasses us.  Make sure to include God in your Thanksgiving celebration along with the drumsticks, sweet potatoes, and touchdowns.  The savor is even sweeter when your thanks is genuine!

  Once there was a man who moved into an active community filled with good-hearted folks who were generally kind and thoughtful.  He soon learned that a major reason for the health and happiness of the residents was the garden in the heart of the village.  His next-door neighbor offered him a basket of fresh tomatoes and peppers.

    “Who owns the garden?” the man inquired of his neighbor.  “It’s very generous of the owner to share the produce with everyone in town.”

    “Well, God owns the garden,” replied the neighbor, “but of course we have to take care of it.”

    “What do you mean?”

    “Earth must be tilled.  Seeds planted.  Seedlings set in the ground. Weeds need to be pulled. All the obvious things have be cared for,” the neighbor explained. He invited the newcomer to accompany him to pick whatever was needed from its fruits and vegetables. “Come with me, and I’ll show you the way.”

    When the pair arrived, the man saw a very large plot of land laid out in regular rows with a profusion of vegetables of many varieties.  Fruit trees laden with bounty filled one quadrant, while another section contained raspberries and blueberries.
    An old brick wall enclosed the huge garden to keep larger animals out.  In the center a deep well crafted of stone blocks provided an ample supply of fresh clear water.  A network of pathways provided access to all plots in the garden.

    “This place is gigantic!” exclaimed the man.  “No wonder there’s enough for everyone.”  He quickly filled a couple containers with wholesome food and went home.

    After enjoying the hearty foodstuffs of the garden for several weeks, the man again wondered about how the garden functioned.  He saw his neighbor trimming the hedge and stopped to chat.

    “I’ve really been blessed by all this healthy food, but now I want to do my part,” the man explained.

    “Great,” responded the neighbor, “because the potatoes really need to be dug.”

    I can do that, the man thought to himself.  It doesn’t sound too complicated.

    So, armed with a shovel, the man went to the garden to dig potatoes.  After a bit of searching, he found the plot where the potato plants had died down—a LOT of potato plants!  Row after long row stretched before him.  He dug up one plant, then another, then a third.  Wiping his forehead, he stood up and gazed down the row.  It didn’t seem any shorter.

    Bending down, the man dug furiously for several minutes.  Dirt flew, and potatoes popped to the surface.  He rose, stretched his back a moment, and surveyed his handiwork.  Over a dozen hills of potatoes where completed.  That’s better, he thought.  Then he turned the other direction and stared down the row.  It didn’t look much shorter than before. He didn’t have a lot more time to contribute that day, but he spaded up some more plants before quitting.  In the end, though, he had hardly completed half a row before he had to leave.

    He gathered all the potatoes in a bag and hauled them to a set of large wooden bins that had been put out for the harvest.  Keeping a few for himself, he poured the rest into one of the bins.  They clunked and thudded onto the boards, not even enough to cover the bottom.  Discouraged, the man went home to his chores.

    A few days later he cranked up his courage to go back and work on the potatoes again.  He didn’t have a lot of time to give that day, either, but he wanted to help.

    On his way, he muttered to himself, “Why bother?  If I worked every day for a month, I wouldn’t be able to get all those potatoes finished.  What’s the point, anyway?  My little contribution isn’t going to accomplish anything.”

    As he arrived at the garden and headed for the potato patch, he met his neighbor who was heading home.  That fellow also had a shovel on his shoulder.  He looked a little weary, but also happy. As soon as the neighbor saw the man, he dropped his shovel and ran up with a grin.

     “Thanks so much for all your work!” the neighbor shouted, clapping the astonished man on the back.  “You were an enormous help.”

    The man was stunned. “What do you mean?  I managed barely half a row.  What good was that?”

    “Your contribution was just what we all needed to get that job done,” the neighbor answered.  “Come and see.”

    When they reached the wooden bins, the man was astounded to find all of them overflowing with potatoes.  And there before him stretched the potato patch, completely dug up, row upon row.  

     “But I didn’t do all that,” the man protested.

    “Of course not,” responded his neighbor.  “No one expected you to.  But your contribution really made a difference!  Combined with everyone else’s efforts, your donation made it possible to get the work done successfully.  Thank you!”

*****
    

    Sometimes in the life of the church it seems that the needs are so great that our small part isn’t significant.  But the miracle of the faith community is that God takes all our gifts and empowers them to accomplish more than seems possible!

    As you respond as generously as you can with your contributions of money and time and talent and prayers to the opportunities your church provides, God blesses those gifts to enable ministry to happen every day in ways both obvious and subtle.

    Thank you for your faithfulness and generosity!

July 2011

(Summer is a time for vacations and renewal.  How about a trip that could be life-changing?)

    It was the trip of a lifetime!  She knew, deep within her most intimate personal heart, that she had always wanted to go, hoped to go, expected someday to go.  Things had gotten in the way, had caused her attention to wander, had distracted her--but she had never lost the desire to take this most special journey, no matter how much the ticket cost.
    She had even made a few false starts, “practice runs,” you might call them.  Cheap short hops that didn’t go very far, but still might give her a bit of a taste of the real thing.  And maybe they did give her just a tiny taste, a nibble, but they were ultimately not very satisfying.  And she had gotten busy with family and job and those obligatory recreations that take a lot of time but aren’t really much fun after a while.
    And so here she was, back again at the beginning, in an odd way, thinking about the trip once more and getting very excited.  She felt she was actually ready to go this time--no more delay, no more procrastination, no more losing focus.  She knew, however expensive, she needed to get that ticket soon.
    What else should she be doing?  Packing, of course!  That would certainly be the sensible way to launch this great adventure.  Hmm, what should she take along on this journey?  She tossed her largest suitcases on the bed and began stuffing them full of dresses, skirts, slacks, blouses, shirts, sweaters, vests, jackets, robes, nightgowns, nylons, and enough under-things to clothe a small Third World village.
    She stood back finally, breathing hard, hair slipping down in front of her eyes, and surveyed the results of her efforts.  The bags and cases rose like a plastic and canvas mountain from the floor.  That was a lot of baggage!  A sudden thought struck her--what was the point of going somewhere else if she took everything from here along with her?  Wasn’t this journey about refreshing her spirit, about renewing her vision, about reviving her strength?  Would that monstrous mound of luggage help with any of those?
    In the end, she realized that the single most valuable thing to take was simply herself.  Everything else she really needed fit quite comfortably in one modest suitcase and in her handbag, including the special book she took to read and some extra tissues she thought might come in handy.
    Now, besides a ticket, what else would be helpful?  Maybe a better question was “who else?”  Would she have traveling companions on this great journey?  In a peculiar sense it needed to be a private trip, a solo excursion, a solitary adventure, and yet she realized that it did not have to be lonely.  Sharing the experience with others did not need to detract from her own enjoyment and growth.
    So she sought out others who seemed interested in such travel, who had the same inner yearning, who felt this restless need to explore.  And she spoke with some who had made the trip themselves and had wisdom to share about what to expect and what to seek and what to let go of.  And the more she heard from these other travelers, the more eager she was to make the journey herself.
    But now the matter of a ticket could no longer be avoided.  She had resolved to go on the trip.  She was packed sensibly.  She had companions to share the journey.  But she had not bought the ticket.
    She realized that she had been this close to going on the journey previously in her life, and that it was just precisely at this point that she had failed before to follow through, to finish what she had begun, to take the final step.  She had been afraid of the cost.  She was sure it would be frightfully expensive.  She had doubted that she could afford it.  
    And here she was again, at the point of decision, where she had to chose, where she had to act, where she had to say “Yes” or “No.”  She realized that she had read the material about the trip, had talked to people about it, had listened to explanations of it, and had ignored any reference to the cost of the ticket!  It was like a mental block, as if she just did not want to confront it, so she screened it out.  Ahg!  Now she needed to know!
    So although she was nervous, she decided to call the ticket agent.  She asked him directly how much such a trip would actually cost.
    “How much do you have?” he responded.
    “That much?!” she gasped.  And she hung up.  If the trip cost that much, then she probably didn’t have enough, after all.
    Still, the more she thought about the trip, the more she was convinced that she should buy the ticket, no matter what the cost.  She did not want to miss this opportunity because she realized that it might never come again.  If she turned away when she was this close, it would be so very hard to muster the determination needed to try it once more.
    She emptied her bank accounts, cashed in her bonds, and collected every scrap of money she could find.  She put it all in a large wallet, gathered her luggage, locked up the house, and headed for the terminal.  She got in the right line at the ticket counter and was soon at the window.  
    The agent was very helpful.  He got her bag checked, ticket printed, procedures explained.  She shoved the wallet with all her money across the counter to him as he was giving her directions to the gate where she was to board.  She hurried off down the long corridor so she couldn’t change her mind at the last moment.  As she arrived at the gate, passengers were already boarding, so she showed her ticket and quickly found her seat.
    It was just then, as she settled into the seat, that she saw the agent coming after her.  Yes, it was her that he sought, for he was ignoring everyone else and heading straight to where she sat.  Oh no!, she thought, I was so close to going.
    “About your wallet,” he puffed, out of breath.
    “But I gave all that I had--that’s what I was told,” she moaned.
    “Sure,” said the agent as he dropped the wallet in her lap.  “But your fare has been paid in full for you for--well, for as long as I can remember.  Have a great trip on Graceways!”

Your pastor in Christ,

Pastor James T. Galbreath